Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Uzbekistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Groovy Waters to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Sonic Youth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Monks,
the Swans,
Scrapy,
Arab on Radar,
Television,
Faraquet,
The Trojans,
Eurythmics,
X-101,
Basic Channel,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Five Americans,
The American Breed,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Monochrome Set,
Qualms,
Barclay James Harvest,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Throbbing Gristle,
Freddie Wadling,
The New Christs,
Bauhaus,
Kerri Chandler,
Technova,
Schoolly D,
The Birthday Party,
Rhythm & Sound,
Reagan Youth,
Bluetip,
The Fire Engines,
Erasure,
the Bar-Kays,
Trumans Water,
Kas Product,
Livin' Joy,
Quantec,
The Human League,
T. Rex,
Alphaville,
Barbara Tucker,
Television Personalities,
Charles Mingus,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eve St. Jones,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Minor Threat,
Ronnie Foster,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Inner City,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wolf Eyes,
Slave,
Negative Approach,
Hot Snakes,
Eden Ahbez,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.